The moon lives in the lining of your skin
by digthewriter
Summary: It's Harry's birthday and if Malfoy wants to...


**THE MOON LIVES IN THE LINING OF YOUR SKIN**

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 **Disclaimer:** Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

 **Notes:** All my thanks to Meruem_YK for the beta. All the remaining mistakes are mine. Title is part of a Neruda poem. Enjoy. Thanks!

 **Summary:** It's his birthday and if Malfoy wants to fuck him. Then Malfoy wants to fuck him.

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It started on the dance floor with Malfoy whispering dirty somethings and hot nothings in Harry's ear. Harry hadn't planned on finding someone he _knew_ at the Muggle club but there he was: Draco Malfoy in all his fucking glory. Harry's plan had been simple. After an early dinner at the Burrow for his twenty-fifth birthday, he was going to go find himself someone to shag. It was his birthday, after all.

Malfoy had been on him since before Harry even knew what'd hit him.

And now, Harry was in Malfoy's bed, hands tied to the bedpost while Malfoy continued to talk him almost into orgasm.

"I bet I could make you come without even touching you," Malfoy had dared to say, and Harry had taken him up on that challenge.

Then it was: "You're so fucking beautiful like this…" When Malfoy had slipped his thumb in Harry's mouth. Followed by: "Love that gorgeous mouth of yours. Have you ever tested your gag reflex, Potter?" When Malfoy pressed the same thumb against Harry's entrance.

"Please, Malfoy…" Harry begged, unable to form any other sentence that would be coherent. He was losing himself in Malfoy's words, in his touches. Malfoy's hands were strong, and as they massaged Harry's ribs, Harry wanted Malfoy's cock inside him.

"Needy little one, aren't you, Potter?" Malfoy teased him more. And then, _finally_ , he had the head of his cock pressed against Harry's hole. "Just the tip for you," he said as he pushed in slightly and then pulled out.

Harry didn't know what to do. Did he want to beg more? Did he want to scream? Or cry? Maybe all of it. He wanted Malfoy inside him, and he was so hard for it. He was so hard for _Malfoy_ , and he wanted to touch himself but his hands were tied, and Malfoy _had_ promised Harry he could make him come without Harry touching himself.

Still, Harry hadn't counted on the event to be so torturous.

"Needy for you…" Harry found himself blurting. It wasn't far from the truth. Malfoy had always been on Harry's mind, in one way or another, and being there now still seemed too good to be true.

He didn't have to let Malfoy pull him tonight, but Harry had. He'd thought since it was his birthday, he could do whatever he wanted, but Harry also knew he wanted Malfoy. If Malfoy hadn't approached Harry, most likely, Harry would have chased after him.

He'd wanted Malfoy for a long time now. Otherwise, why would he put himself at the mercy of his old school-rival? He was desperate for it.

Desperate for Malfoy.

"Make me come, Malfoy. Like you promised."

That must have been the right thing to say, Harry reckoned, because after that moment, Malfoy lubed himself up, and stopped teasing Harry. Harry was ready for it. He had _been_ ready for a while now. He wanted to get his brains fucked, and now he was going to get it. His body shivered with anticipation.

"Fuck… you're so tight," Malfoy said, pushing Harry's legs up, and pressing himself all the way inside him.

"Is that what you like?" Harry whispered, his back arching, and his glasses getting askew. He didn't need to see then, anyway. He simply needed to _feel_.

"I'm going to fuck you all night, Potter," Malfoy said as a promise. "Fuck you over and over until I've got nothing in me to give you. Is that what you want?"

"Yes!" Harry nearly shouted, pushing against Malfoy. The idea of staying there the entire night and allowing Malfoy to do whatever he wanted to Harry was what Harry needed. He clenched his hole and Malfoy groaned. "Harder, Malfoy. Faster." He realised the cloth tying his wrists above his head was coming loose, but he didn't move his hands. Didn't dare risk diverting Malfoy's attention.

Malfoy looked so concentrated, biting his lower lip, staring into Harry's eyes as he fucked him with reckless abandon. Maybe Harry was losing his mind because in that moment, Harry thought, Malfoy had never looked more beautiful.

"What else are you going to do to me? Tell me. _Please_."

Malfoy let go of Harry's legs and he leaned forward. Still inside Harry, Malfoy was now chest-to-chest with him. "You're such a dirty slut, aren't you?" Malfoy said, and when Harry turned his face away, feeling Malfoy's hot breath in his ear, Malfoy continued. "Didn't think Potter, so proper and pure, liked being used…" He slowly, _deviously_ pushed in and out of Harry. "...liked being nothing but a greedy little bottom."

Harry groaned, arching up, wanting to feel friction on his cock and he finally released himself from the restraints to grab Malfoy's hair and neck. He kissed Malfoy, all the while, jerking his hips so he could feel Malfoy's tight and strong body against his erection.

"Oh no, you don't," Malfoy said, pulling back and out of Harry.

Harry whined at the loss of _everything_ Malfoy.

"On your hands and knees, Potter, I'm not letting you have it so easy."

"Nothing about this is easy, Malfoy," Harry argued.

Malfoy raised his hands and rested back on his haunches. "If you don't like it, you can leave, Potter."

Even though his words were harsh, there was little to no malice in them. Harry saw the slight panic in Malfoy's eyes, as if he was _afraid_ Harry _would_ leave. Harry rolled his eyes and did what he was told. He rested on his elbows and knees, his arse up in the air.

Without a word, Malfoy slid back in, and grabbed Harry's shoulders. This time, they didn't talk, and Harry missed the hot and dirty things Malfoy had been saying to him. However, with the way Malfoy was fucking him now, fast, and hard, Harry figured Malfoy didn't have a breath to spare for speaking.

Harry talked for him. Mostly one word encouragements as he buried his face in the pillow. He was close, now. He couldn't believe how close. It'd never been like this. Harry had never come like this, and Malfoy was doing this to him.

Malfoy's breaths were uneven, his grunts, louder, and with an "Oh, fuck. I'm close—so close—" They came together.

Harry collapsed on the bed, right on his own wet spot, and Malfoy on top of him. Their breathing was heavy, and once it sounded like Malfoy had his under control, he slid off Harry. A few seconds later, Malfoy was gone and Harry slightly panicked. What if Malfoy was one of those blokes that took a shower right after sex, expecting Harry to just leave? It'd been so hot between them, Harry didn't really want to go, not right away, anyway. Besides, hadn't he promised more? Harry's worries subsided when Malfoy returned with a warm wash cloth.

"I can spell myself—"

"This feels better, trust me," Malfoy said, turning Harry around and cleaning him up, before giving himself any attention.

Harry grabbed his wand and spelled the sheets clean. He wondered if Malfoy had meant what he'd said. Was he really willing to fuck Harry all night? Give him everything until he was raw?

They lay next to each other for a long time. Mostly catching their breaths still, but the silence between them was becoming daunting. When they'd been quiet for too long, Harry considered it was time for him to leave.

"Well, thanks for the birthday shag, Malfoy," he said, getting out of the bed. He wanted to linger but didn't wish to overstay his welcome. Usually, it wasn't this hard. Harry'd have no desire to stay. Tonight, it was completely different. Still, he didn't want to seem needy. Not like _this_.

"Potter…" Malfoy said, and Harry didn't know if he'd imagined the hint of panic in his voice.

"Yeah?"

"You don't have to go."

Harry hesitated for a brief second. How could he tell Malfoy that he didn't want just one night? He wanted more. He was worrying himself out of a good time.

Malfoy scowled at him. "Fine, do whatever the fuck you want." He turned to his side and summoned the covers over himself. "Don't let the door hit you on the arse."

"Well, I had planned on taking the Floo," Harry said, feeling cheeky. He heard Malfoy give a heavy sigh, but otherwise, the man didn't move.

Given Harry really didn't _want_ to leave and Malfoy had all but invited him to stay the night, he removed his glasses, placing them on the small table next to Malfoy's bed. He slid under the covers, pressing himself firmly against Malfoy's back. Malfoy leaned back, his head resting on Harry's shoulder.

"Potter?"

"Hmm?"

"Is it _really_ your birthday?"

"It's tomorrow," replied Harry, pressing his groin against Malfoy's arse, and his hand pressed against Malfoy's flat stomach. Merlin, he could stay like this forever.

"So, technically, you didn't really get a birthday shag yet."

"Hmm. Technically, no."

Harry closed his eyes and fell asleep feeling Malfoy's warm body against his. Perhaps in a few hours, it'd be him who would be whispering sweet nothings, and hot somethings in Malfoy's ear. Maybe _he_ could make Malfoy come without touching him.

He looked forward to getting the chance.

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 **Thanks for reading.**


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